When he left a bit later, Brianna watched him dart over the fields, the cake bundled under his arm like one of his precious footballs.

“So many of them go,” she murmured. “We lose them day after day, year after year. Shaking her head, she closed the kitchen door again. “Well, I’ll see to your room now that you’re out of it.”

“I was going to take a walk. Why don’t you come with me?”

“I could take a short one. Just let me—” She smiled apologetically as the phone rang. “Good afternoon, Blackthorn Cottage. Oh, Arlene, how are you?” Brianna held out a hand for Gray’s. “That’s good to hear. Yes, I’m fine and well. Gray’s just here, I’ll . . . oh?” Her brow cocked, then she smiled again. “That would be grand. Of course, you and your husband are more than welcome. September’s a lovely time of the year. I’m so pleased you’re coming. Yes, I have it. September fifteenth, for five days. Indeed yes, you can make a number of day trips from right here. Shall I send you some information about it? No, it would be my pleasure. And I look forward to it as well. Yes, Gray’s here as I said. Just a moment.”

He took the phone, but looked at Brianna. “She’s coming to Ireland in September?”

“On holiday, she and her husband. It seems I tickled her curiosity. She has news for you.”

“Mmm-hmmm. Hey, gorgeous,” he said into the receiver. “Going to play tourist in the west counties?” He grinned, nodded when Brianna offered him tea. “No, I think you’ll love it. The weather?” He glanced out the window at the steadily falling rain. “Magnificent.” He winked at Brianna, sipped his tea. “No, I didn’t get your package yet. What’s in it?”

Nodding, he murmured to Brianna. “Reviews. On the movie.” He paused, listening. “What’s the hype? Mmm. Brilliant, I like brilliant. Wait, say that one again. “From the fertile mind of Grayson Thane,’ ” he repeated for Brianna’s benefit. “Oscar worthy. Two thumbs straight up.” He laughed at that. “And the most powerful movie of the year. Not bad, even if it’s only May. No, I don’t have my tongue in my cheek. It’s great. Even better. Early quotes on the new book,” he told Brianna.

“But you haven’t finished the new book.”

“Not that new book. The one that’s coming out in July. That’s the new book, what I’m working on is the new manuscript. No, just explaining some basic publishing to the landlady.”

Pursing his lips, he listened. “Really? I like it.”

With an eye on him Brianna went to the stove for her roaster. He was making noises, the occasional comment. Occasionally he’d grin or shake his head.

“It’s a good thing I’m not wearing a hat. My head’s getting big. Yeah, publicity sent me an endless letter about the plans for the tour. I’ve agreed to be at their mercy for three weeks. No, you make the decision on that sort of thing. It just takes too long for them to mail stuff. Yeah, you, too. I’ll tell her. Talk to you later.”

“The movie’s doing well,” Brianna said, trying to resist pumping him.

“Twelve million in its first week, which is nothing to sneeze at. And the critics are smiling on it. Apparently they like the upcoming book, too. I’m at the top of my form,” he said, reaching into a canister for a cookie. “I’ve created a story dense in atmosphere with prose as sharp as a honed dagger. With, ah, gut-wrenching twists and dark, biting humor. Not too shabby.”

“You should be very proud.”

“I wrote it almost a year ago.” He shrugged, chewed. “Yeah, it’s nice. I have an affection for it that will dim considerably after thirty-one cities in three weeks.”

“The tour you were speaking of.”

“Right. Talk shows, bookstores, airports, and hotel rooms.” With a laugh he popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth. “What a life.”

“It suits you well, I’d think.”

“Right down to the ground.”

She nodded, not wanting to be sad, and set the roaster on the counter. “In July, you say.”

“Yeah. It’s crept up on me. I’ve lost track. I’ve been here four months.”

“Sometimes it seems you’ve been here always.”

“Getting used to me.” He grazed an absent hand over his chin, and she could see his mind was elsewhere. “How about that walk?”

“I really need to get dinner on.”

“I’ll wait.” He leaned companionably against the counter. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Leg of lamb.”

Gray gave a little sigh. “I thought so.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

On a clear day in the middle of May, Brianna watched the workmen dig the foundation for her greenhouse. A small dream, she thought, flipping the braid she wore from her shoulder to her back, come true.

She smiled down at the baby who gurgled in the portable swing beside her. She’d learned to be content with small dreams, she thought, bending to kiss her nephew on his curling black hair.

“He’s grown so, Maggie, in just a matter of weeks.”

“I know. And I haven’t.” She patted her belly, grimaced a little. “I feel less of a sow every day, but I wonder if I’ll ever lose all of it again.”

“You look wonderful.”

“That’s what I tell her,” Rogan added, draping an arm around Maggie’s shoulders.

“And what do you know? You’re besotted with me.”

“True enough.”

Brianna looked away as they beamed at each other. How easy it was for them now, she mused. So comfortably in love with a beautiful baby cooing beside them. She didn’t care for the pang of envy, or the tug of longing.

“So where’s our Yank this morning?”

Brianna glanced back, wondering uneasily if Maggie was reading her mind. “He was up and out at first light, without even his breakfast.”

“To?”

“I don’t know. He grunted at me. At least I think it was at me. His moods are unpredictable these days. The book’s troubling him, though he says he’s cleaning it up. Which means, I’m told, tinkering with it, shining it up.”

“He’ll be done before long, then?” Rogan asked.